


Waltzing with You

by Annette_ConAsra69



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26024887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annette_ConAsra69/pseuds/Annette_ConAsra69
Summary: First of all, Harry was a Gryffindor. Hence, he couldn't create believable lies out of thin air like some certain people. Therefore, Merlin forgive him if the only thought that came to his mind as he entered the Malfoy Manor, five years after the war, was that Teddy Lupin had asked for a dancing lesson from his cousin but was sick and couldn't come to the Manor himself.All coherent thoughts just went down the drain when Harry's eyes landed on the blond figure he hadn't seen the past five years after his love confession.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 93





	Waltzing with You

**Author's Note:**

> This is totally unedited, I apologize. I want to create something, but don't have enough time to, hence this. Hope you enjoy at least :)

"Excuse me, did I hear that right? You came here, barging in like some uncultured swine-" 

"I knocked!" Harry defended. 

"And now you insist that I teach you what, to dance?" Malfoy shot back, distaste clearly plastered on his whole being. 

"Yes," Harry said with all conviction he could muster, as if the word itself didn't have him questioning all his morals and life choices. "More specifically, waltz. Because Teddy wants to. Waltz, I mean." 

"And whatever makes you think that I know this?" Malfoy asked, still not paying Harry a glance because to the git his plants deserved more attention than his guest. Then again, it might be that he didn't consider Harry a guest at all. Malfoy Manor was cold as ever, 

"You're a pureblood, you know this stuff. I know you know this stuff," Harry claimed with nothing to back him up. What a good thing to be a Gryffindor—sometimes brave and stupid aligned. 

Malfoy finally looked at the raven-haired man, crossing his arms in annoyance. "Lovegood is a pureblood, Longbottom can dance. Why exactly are you here, Potter? Think I'm up to something within these caging walls? For the love of Merlin, just state the truth." 

"Teddy," was the first thing that came to mind. It was the only common ground the two rivals had, and Harry knew for a fact that that kid was Malfoy's undoing. The blond would do anything for him. "He asked me to ask his cousin, which is you, by the way.” Malfoy sent him a look that said, _I'm not a moron, unlike yourself_ , but Harry ignored that. “We watched Beauty and the Beast and he got so interested in dancing, he asked ‘Dromeda and got obsessed with the idea of waltz even though he’s never properly seen it.”

“Then whyever is Teddy not here now?” the blond asked, showing is obvious distaste at Harry's existence. 

Harry clamped his mouth shut, before saying, "I- He's sick." He swore at himself that it sounded too panicky, Dra- Malfoy was going to see right through it. 

"Right. Okay. Waltz," Malfoy said calmly, an eyebrow arched as he took in Harry's appearance. He was scrutinizing him, trying to see what was behind his obvious unnatural facade. Harry hoped his facial expression hadn't exposed him, but oh who was he kidding? With the way he was jumping from toe to toe, with the way Malfoy was looking at him with such intensity— 

"Yes, waltz, geez Malfoy." He rolled his eyes, attempting to return the sense of rivalry that had since been long gone. "If you didn't want to, you could've just said-" 

"No." 

"Exactly! No! It isn't that hard, just _one_ syllable-" 

"I mean no, stop it you git," Malfoy firmly said. "I'm not going to disappoint little Teddy like that," because of course everything is for the kid, Harry longed the time when Draco would— when Malfoy— As much as he was glad his plan seemed to be working somewhat, Harry couldn't help but be disappointed. Just a little. 

Harry was surprised to hear the blond say, "Fine." Teddy was the right lie to go, it seemed. "But not today. Unlike the Chosen One, we, the lower beings, have better things to do on a Monday morning. Such as, I apologize if the term is too rare for _your_ kind, working." Before Harry could offer a rebuttal, Malfoy had pushed him out the door, his farewell being, "See you Friday, Potter." 

-

When the war was over, the first thing that Draco did was dye his hair. He didn't get rid of the platinum blond, he loved his hair as he was undeniable and proudly vain. He simply added some soft highlights of pastel colors that made him look ethereal, more than he already was. He was a Malfoy, and if he decided to abandon the name that'd brought him thus far, regardless of at which point (very bad) he was in at the moment, he'd be even worse than a coward. He resolved to change, both himself and the very thing that'd been ingrained in his blood since birth, very literally. 

The second thing that Draco did was add some muggle tattoo to his Death Eater mark. He did not cover it, he decorated the symbol of racism with something from which its hatred came, creating an art with so much contrast and so much meaning. His history couldn't be erased just like that, he'd said, and he wouldn't erase it even if he had the chance. Everything would evolve. 

How did Harry know this? 

It was a long time ago that Malfoy changed into Draco, that hurtful insults turned into playful jabs, that punches became tentative touches and hate evolved into love. They were two sides of the same coin, always attracted to one another like some magnets that couldn't get enough of one another. 

But it was a secret. 

Oh Merlin was it a secret. 

Behind the snow, when the castle was sleeping and it was only them two. It wasn't something that Harry'd envisioned of himself seven years before, having to run into the library to hide from his underclassmen because they were fans of the idea of him, the concept of the Chosen One. As if. 

Harry was a tool in war. He supposed he should've realized earlier, with the stalking and whatnot, that Draco was on the same kind of boat, but heading the opposite direction. They weren't anything special, just playing big roles in a war that adults couldn't care less to step their foot into. 

When Draco pointed this out in the library as they sat together, he got angry at first. Dumbledore was dying, how could he 'step foot in war'? Draco himself had been the one who almost killed him. But then he finally took some time to blow of some steam and rethink. It made sense, didn't it? 

Voldemort was too scared to face Dumbledore and Dumbledore was… Dumbledore. 

It seemed a month of bonding was enough to make one fall head over heels for another. Harry had found out firsthand during that winter. Perhaps it was indeed the sexual tension hanging in the air between them since day one, but—

But it was a secret. 

Nearing the end of the holiday, Harry perhaps found another moment he could engrave into memory; another memory so happy he could cast Expecto Patronum—until he ruined it. Again. 

It was arguably worse than—

Oh _who was he kidding_? It was absolutely worse than the first year incident where he rejected Draco's handshake. It was horrible, it was the worst, and Harry regretted it to this day how he hadn't attempted to amend the situation or their relationship. 

"I like you." 

Every time Harry thought back to that moment, he could still hear the echo of Draco's voice offering him happiness and love and. And—

"I'm flattered you think that way, Draco, but I'm not gay." 

Draco gaped at him. Back then, Harry had thought it was because he was shocked at the rejection, but now he thought it was just because the outspoken lie was too outrageous. Unthinkable. "Is the concept of bisexuality lost on you, Potter?" 

The way Harry switched into Potter set alarm bells ringing in his ears, but he couldn't think. He couldn't process what was going on; a second ago his heart was beating so fast it might've burst out of ecstacy and now the (supposedly) love of his life was looking at him like was a monster, because of his own words nonetheless. "It- I _can't_ be gay." 

"Are you… homophobic? Is that it?" Draco had asked, confusion now mingling with hurt. "Because I swear- you've been sending me so many signals! And you-"

"I'm not homophobic!" Harry had exclaimed firmly, but Merlin knew what a lie it was. It took a lot of meetings with his Mind Healer to understand the concept of internalized homophobia. The cursed thing had bloomed out of the expectations from other people, being the Chosen One and Savior of the Wizarding World would do that to someone. 

The blond had stepped back until his back reached the door, still looking at Harry with hurt. He still remembered the way Draco's eyes had glistened with unshed tears and the man was gone in a blink of an eye. 

-

Five years. Five years and still, being in Draco's arms felt like coming home. Or so Harry thought silently as they danced. 

The rich scent of his cologne, the coldness of his palms that somehow never went damp even though Harry could always feel his own sweating because of nerves, and how he still dyed his hair the same highlights from years ago… It really did feel like coming back home. 

Harry had never wanted to sob as much as he did at that moment, in Draco's arms, in the middle of the Manor's ballroom in a random Friday evening. He swore he'd start begging if there was any chance still, of this being an everyday occurrence, of _this_ being _forever_. 

"We're not learning waltz," Draco stated, apropos of nothing as if he was talking about the weather. 

Shaken out of his reverie, Harry could only, "What?" 

"This isn’t waltz. I don’t know waltz. Why waltz, even? Is that what _witches_ are up to these days? Potter, Teddy is my cousin," Draco began. "I'm a Healer. If he were sick, Aunt Andromeda would've contacted me immediately. I also know for a fact that he hates dancing with passion, at least this type." He paused for a second, which was enough time for Harry to start panicking.”Now, we could sit down and acknowledge your raging internalized homophobia over tea, or you can get out of my Manor _and_ my life forever because I am so done with your bullshit.” 

“Um,” Harry was taken aback. He thought they were doing the let’s-forget-everything-that-happened-between-us-and-start-anew, but he should’ve known Draco was more complicated than that. “Do you really mean that? Wanting me out of your life forever, I mean.” 

Draco didn’t answer, holding Harry close yet his emotions were locked far away. It was driving Harry mad. 

“Fair enough, okay,” Harry said. “About the internalized homophobia, I’ve talked about it. With my Mind Healer. A lot of help actually, she was, but regardless… That’s why I’m here, hoping it’s not too late and you’d still accept me.” Draco was about to say something, but the raven beat him to it because, “Wait. I need to do this properly. I am so sorry, I am _so sorry_ , for hurting you because of my own problems. I liked you back then, and now I still- but anyways, I want to say- what I want to say is-”

A deep breath. Harry kept his gaze glued to the wall behind Draco, unable to look at him in the eye. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to start over. You’ve always said that you couldn’t erase your past, so me erasing what made us become us, erasing the very reason I fell in love with you is ridiculous. I’d never forget how beautiful you looked, I’ll never forget how beautiful you are. Draco, I.” His speech was yet to be finished, but he felt like his heart was exposed out in the open. It wasn’t a good feeling, like defenselessly letting someone hold a wand to his head, wondering at which point he’d be AK’d. His Mind Healer had warned him about this, but nothing could help with the painful sensation of his heart racing in his chest. His feet were getting wobbly and it made him regret that he didn’t take up the offer for tea. “I don’t want to start over. I want us to move forward, I want to be with you. You know what I’m asking here, Draco, please. I’m talking like a fool.” 

He closed his eyes. This all felt too surreal. Too late did he realize there were tears escaping his eyes. 

Draco hugged him. For real, instead of the close (yet never close enough) proximity that the dance had them in. “Shh, Harry, it’s okay. Breathe, love,” he whispered gently, as if talking to a child. And if hearing the word ‘love’ from Draco’s lips didn’t become his undoing, Harry didn’t know what would. 

“I just- I didn’t know I hated myself so much, that I hurt you over it. It’s such a stupid thing. You deserve better, not someone like-” 

“What?” Draco cut off, apparently done with giving him time to voice his thoughts. “An annoying prat who barely has any manners, lies like a five-year-old and has hair that’s entirely too messy to exist? Or a handsome git who saved the whole Wizarding World yet is still too humble for his own good? Harry it will never- we will never think we are enough for each other. Look at me, I was a Death Eater who fought for the wrong side in the war, you understand what I’m saying? We don’t have to erase, but we have to make peace with it to move on.” He paused again. He’d been making lots of those lately, as if he was scared Harry was going to break if he spoke too much at once. “But it has been five years, Harry. I know you didn’t directly ask me to wait, but I did. You’ve held my heart in the palms of your hands since forever, so unless I have your word that you’re serious in this, I would have to ask you to leave.” 

It was only then that Harry dared to look into Draco’s eyes. “Really? You’re really giving me another chance? Even though I’ve been an utter asshole?” 

“Well, what’s new?” Draco gave a cheeky grin. It was like nothing had changed, but they’d grown so much. It was like coming home after a long, painful journey. 

Harry had to admit he was a bit extra. Hearing those words, he quite literally just jumped into the blond’s arms. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he chanted like a mantra. 

-

“Oh, the idiot came barging into my house like some uncultured swine-” 

It felt like deja vu, he just had to defend himself again, “I knocked!” 

“I thought you were above name-calling,” Andromeda spoke with a disapproving shake of her head, although by the twist of her lips, she looked rather amused. 

“Oh, but it brings color into our relationship, dearest Aunt,” Draco spoke, giving Harry a look. “It really gets him going when I call him names, especially in bed, such as-” 

“I think Teddy and I have heard enough,” she declared, lifting the sleepy boy from the chair. He’d dozed off, thankfully not awake enough to hear the dirty turn the conversation was taking. Harry felt his face burning and he wanted to scold Draco, but what could he say? He did enjoy some name-calling. “You have the guest room all to yourself, boys. Please do cast a Silencing Charm if you decide to practice the arts of name-calling today. I’ll see you tomorrow. 

“Sure will do, Aunt ‘Dromeda! Good night!” Draco said cheekily before sending Harry a smirk. 

The raven could only shake his head and start stomping down the guest room, face still burning and undeniably as red as the Weasley hair. He jumped onto the bed with crossed arms. “You shameless asshole!”

“As are you. I thought we’d established this already.” Draco laughed, sitting next to him. “Despite you being an absolute git, I still love you very much, remember?”

See, Harry found it hard to keep on being angry once ‘love’ came out of those sinful lips. He couldn’t fight the grin coming out his face. “Yes, yes whatever. I love you too, even though you’re the worst asshole to ever exist. Embarrassing us in front of my godson, Draco, my underage, innocent godson—” 

All in all, Harry could tell they were heading into a new and better life. 


End file.
